


One Night

by RedGazelle



Category: Star-Crossed (TV 2014)
Genre: Atrians, Dreams, F/M, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:15:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1336750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedGazelle/pseuds/RedGazelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roman sees Grayson and Emery kissing after the disastrous swim meet.  Emotionally conflicted and more than a little heart-sick, Roman dreams that Emery comes to him later that night to explain herself and to comfort him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Episode 104 "And Left No Friendly Drop."

That bus ride back to the sector was the longest of Roman’s life.  Every time he closed his eyes, Emery and Grayson ghosted in negative across the backs of his eyelids.  The way she cradled his injured hand, the way he caught her eyes and held them, the way he leaned in to kiss her, the way she didn’t wait for him to kiss her but leaned up to meet him.  The way they broke the kiss just to look at one another before leaning in again.  The way they grinned at each other after: self-conscious, giddy, happy.  The images looped endlessly through Roman’s mind, each one a nauseous reminder of the last.

The worst part was the voice in the back of his mind, his own voice, that reminded him, ‘You wanted this, Roman.’  And he couldn’t deny it, because it wasn’t wrong: He had wanted Emery to put distance between them, and now she had.  Roman wanted Emery to be safe.  It was why he had stayed away, been a jerk even.  Emery did not give up easily, but being with Roman would only put her in unnecessary danger.  Despite her insistence otherwise, Roman knew that was true: He was an unnecessary danger in her life.  She could not be safe if Roman was with her.  But even though Roman had backed away, he hadn’t been able to hide his feelings well enough to keep eyes off of her.  Really, he should thank Grayson, shouldn’t he?  Because what better way to keep Emery from the danger that being attached to an Atrian had put her in but for her to be publically attached to a human?

It occurred to Roman that Emery would likely hit him if she could hear that particular line of thought.

It also occurred to Roman that Emery would not agree that it was selfish of him not to be happy that Emery would be safer with Grayson than she would with him.  Emery had made it clear that morning at Sophia’s locker that she thought he had already been acting selfishly not just with her, but with all the people in his life.

Maybe she was right.  She was definitely right about Sophia; he had been too afraid to lose her as well.  But Roman wasn’t certain Emery was right about herself.  He didn’t want to lose her, the thought made both of his hearts ache, but that wasn’t the only reason he was protecting her.  She had protected him 10 years ago, and in return for her concern and care he had brought the National Guard into her backyard.  Then, he couldn’t have known better or done anything to stop it.  He was only 6.  But now…Roman’s hands clenched into fists.

Just like she had when they were 6, Emery was trying to protect him now.  She used her humanity to his, and the other Atrians’, benefit whenever she could.  Why did she not understand that he could not reward her faith, so much like his father’s faith, with a death sentence?  She wouldn’t stop trying unless he gave her a reason to, and, lucky him, being a jerk to her seemed to be working.  He ungratefully wished that his methods hadn’t worked quite so well.

Roman wondered idly how easy it would be to have Grayson turn up in a bayou somewhere.  Disturbingly, Roman figured the answer was far easier than it should be.  Certainly far easier than keeping Emery from ending up in the same bayou.

 

Later, when Roman crawled into bed, the same nauseous pit was still churning in his stomach.  Tomorrow he would be happy for her.  Considering Roman wouldn’t, couldn’t, be with her, it was only right.  But tonight, tonight…

Roman was still seeing Emery and Grayson together when he finally drifted off to sleep.

 

“Roman…?”  A female voice called hesitantly through the door to his room.

“Go away, Sophia.  I’m trying to sleep.”  Roman was fairly certain it was still night, as there was no sunlight filling the room.

“Um,” the voice said, “it’s Emery.”  The door pushed open slightly.  “Can I come in?”  Roman propped himself up on his elbows as Emery slid into his room without waiting for confirmation and then quietly shut the door behind her.

Roman’s pulse quickened, both hearts simultaneously picking up pace as she advanced toward him.  If she cared to look, Roman was certain that Emery would be able to see his veins thrumming underneath his only partially covered skin.  Still lying in his bed, he was only wearing shorts and had a thin sheet tangled between his legs, more for the weight than for the warmth in the muggy Louisiana heat.  Emery made no attempt to keep her eyes on his.  Instead they traced the markings that twisted across his chest and over his ribs.

“Mm…” she murmured.  In a cat, the noise might have been purring, except that, when Emery made it, it was deeper and held as much promise as threat.  Perhaps in a very, very large cat.

‘Weird,’ Roman thought.  As many times as he had already imagined scenes like this one, he had never imagined that Emery would be quite so, well, predatory.  A small shiver ran down his spine.  Whatever he expected, he was not disappointed in the least by what he was experiencing.  What was that strange, human expression again?  Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.  Or any horse, really.  Roman had never seen one, but he understood they had considerably strong jaws.  But that was beside the point; Emery was the point.

When she stood right next to his bed, her eyes traveled back up to meet his.  They were still approximately at one another’s eye level despite her standing and his laying down thanks to the elevation of loft bed.

“Roman,” she said.

“What are you doing here, Emery?”  Even to him, his voice sounded too harsh.  It wasn’t safe for her to be here, no matter how much he wanted her to be.  Especially so long after curfew.

But, surprisingly, she didn’t get angry at him for being over-protective.  Instead, she said, “Your mother let me in.”  As if that explain everything.

“But…” he began.  Emery smiled though, and when Roman thought about it, perhaps it did explain everything.

Emery gingerly picked his hand up from its resting place on the mattress and cradled it in her own.  “About what you saw today.  With me and Grayson.”

Roman blinked.  “How do you know that I saw you?”

“Lukas,” she said.  “He told me you were watching us.”

“Why would he tell you that?  Why would he even care?”

“Does it matter?”  Emery’s fingers traced feathery patterns on the back of his hand.

“No, I guess not.”  Roman looked down at their hands, unable to keep looking Emery in the eyes.  He couldn’t keep the pain off of his face, and he had promised himself that he would be happy for her.  “What about it?”

“I wish it had been you.”

Both of Roman’s hearts stuttered briefly.  “…what?”

“When I was kissing him, all I could think was that I wished I was kissing you.”  Then Roman felt soft lips, Emery’s lips, press against the tender curve of skin between his thumb and forefinger.  “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Roman’s eyes flashed up to meet hers.  The depth of her eyes agreed with her words, even as something half-remembered nagged at him.  He sat up and worked his other hand into the hair at the back of her neck.  “Then what are you waiting for?” he said.  And she smiled brilliantly up at him.  ‘The same smile she smiled at Grayson,’ he thought.  Happiness.  She had been happy when she was kissing Grayson…

But she rose up on her tip toes to meet his lips with her own and the thought was gone.  He wasn’t sure he even knew anyone named Grayson.  What he did know is that Emery’s hands were pressed flat against his chest, bracing her, and her lips pressed against his own, alternately hard and soft, but always hungry.  Without warning, her teeth caught his bottom lip and drug slowly, methodically over it.  Roman drew in a shaky breath and she laughed warmly against him.

She was much too far away from him, standing where she was on the floor.  “Come here,” he said and she was almost instantly as close as she could get with an elevated bed between them.  It wasn’t enough.  Roman leaned down and hooked one arm around her shoulders and one arm under her thigh, and then swung her up onto the bed next to him.

If it was possible for a person to look delighted and impressed and aroused all at the same time, she did just that.  “This,” she said.  “All that time, I only wanted this.”  Emery leaned down to kiss him again.  “You.”

And Roman believed her because he wanted to believe her.  “Ok,” he said, and in that moment, everything really was.  Roman slid his hands beneath the hem of her shirt, following the curves of her waist up…

 

…And Emery ghosted through his fingers, washed away by a stray but brilliant ray of morning sunlight.

It took Roman several moments to sort out what was real and what had been a dream.  The truth, however, was pretty clear.  Emery had not come to him to reassure him.  She had not kissed him.  She had not smiled at him with the brilliance of the sunlight that had dissolved her dream-form.

Roman sat up and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, all pleasurable sensations quickly eroding to annoyances.  The false tangibility of the illusion grated at him.  Although the Emery in his dream had been exciting, certainly, it hadn’t been Emery.  Even less so than the Emery he could dream up when he was awake, and she, too, was fundamentally flawed.  Even when the stand-ins surprised him, he could still understand their motivations.  And after 10 years, Roman still wasn’t sure he understood what had motivated Emery to help him then.  He was even less certain why she was determined to now.

The only real bit of Emery that was here in his room was the old piece of yellow string, hanging from the ceiling in the shape of a star.  As a six-year-old, she had tangled both their fingers up in it.  Even the best knots would unravel, though, if you tugged at the right thread.  It seemed Roman had.

Roman dug his nails into his palms.  If the sun was up, then he was out of time.  He had only allowed himself the one night, and that was over.  Today he would be happy for her.

Or at least he would pretend to be so, come Monday, it would look real.


End file.
